Zemblanity
by Lux Remanet
Summary: Noctis learns a thing or two about destiny...and how much it hurts to get hit in the head with a frying pan.
1. Chapter 1

_a/n: My crack take on the red thread of fate concept. AU set after Lightning Returns. _

_Can I go ahead and just point out/yell how incredibly handy it is to have a ship where one half of your otp can teleport?_

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><p>Noctis leaned his hip against the desk, watching Lucis' newest visitor crouching by his grandfather's koi pond. Currently he was refraining from teleporting right over there and introducing him to the fish with a tactical shove of his boot.<p>

Two seconds. It would be glorious. He'd done it to Prompto and on rare occasions Ignis and Gladiolus, so what was stopping him?

"What do you think?" Stella asked, uncharacteristic anxiety clear in her voice.

Oh, _right_. The woman who had a better handle over her powers than he did, _that's_ _who_.

"I didn't know hair could defy gravity like that," Noctis held his hands over his own head to demonstrate. "You said he doesn't use hair gel?"

Stella sounded smitten (or something resembling a smote crater of a woman). "He doesn't have time for it," she said(or boasted). "He's 'got work to do'. A man after my own heart." She sighed.

"Or _wealth_," Noctis added, trying not to hurl. If he thought a 'single' Stella was annoying, a dating one had to be insufferable. He should have kept his nose out of it, he should have, but how could he not with the way she was sneaking around, asking him to tell her minders she was just 'stepping outside for some fresh air'? And with the way she'd grabbed him by the collar and made him _swear _not to tell a soul, he'd naturally assumed it was something dangerous, something that threatened the peace of their world. So he had to intervene.

And boy, did he ever wish he _didn't_.

From the moment she confessed he'd endured nothing but longing sighs and faraway stares into a distance that only lovestruck people would never get bored of. He had the man at the koi pond to thank for the condition she was in now and it more than piqued his interest. Who was he, really? What could he have done to have cast this spell that turned Stella into…_not _Stella? He'd told her to bring him along so that he could complete his assessment and now that she had, he was more than a little dumbfounded—really fucking surprised, actually. Because the Stella's 'type' seemed to venture into the territory of leather-wearing bad boys with a piercing and military-issue combat boots.

_Combat_ boots.

Yeah.

Okay.

"He looks like a mercenary," Noctis said when Stella nudged him pointedly. "I mean check out his sword. I've never seen anything like it. What did you say his name was?"

"Cloud."

"Cloud," Noctis repeated, the corners of his mouth tugging.

"Cloud Strife of Nibelheim."

"Yeah. Doesn't sound like a mercenary name at all," he muttered under his breath. "I know my geography Fleuret. I've never heard of a 'Nibelheim'. I think I'd remember if I did." His gaze returned to 'Cloud' now basking in the afternoon sun on the bench with his arms behind his head, and lingered on the weapon lying within arms' reach. "That sword though…"

"_Swords_," Stella corrected.

Now _there_ was a language he was fluent in. He turned, intrigued. "Swords?"

He watched Stella perch gracefully on the desk beside him. (Actually, everything she did was graceful.)

"Fusion Swords, to be exact," she said. "There's six altogether and he wields it like he's fighting with a rapier. He's put all of my best guards to shame. The weight just doesn't bother him at all. You haven't even heard the best part yet: he's also got a motorbike."

Stella likes motorbikes. Go figure. "For real?"

She nodded. "He calls it _Fenrir_. I brought him so you could meet him."

Noctis didn't even register the last part. 'Cloud' had a fucking motorbike too? That equated to supreme badass in his books. Hmm. Maybe becoming friends with the outsider wouldn't be too bad. He could see himself on Fenrir now: nothing but the wind in his hair; miles of blacktop leading to nowhere while he rode into the sunset; away from all of this political bullshit he drowned under on a daily basis...

Stella poking him in the ribs brought him back to reality. "Well?"

"_Meet_ him-Stella _I_ feel like dating him."

Stella laughed. "First come first _serve_ Lord Noctis," she told him smugly. "But you know, I think the reason he's so strong is because he's seen the light too. He told me he's died a few times and has ended up in the Unseen. He calls it the 'Lifestream', and it's not as gloomy as people say. He's even met the Goddess. He calls her 'Aerith'. He says she was the last of the Cetra. A race of Ancients who…"

As she continued the pieces suddenly began to fit. Why everything made sense and at the same time didn't. Why the elephant in the room was getting bigger by the second.

_Nibelheim._

_The _Lifestream_ instead of the Unseen._

_Aerith instead of Etro._

_Cetra instead of Fal-Cie._

_And his _**hair**_. It is **literally** OUT OF THIS WORLD._

_"..._and there was a man called Sephiroth who-"

"Stella," Noctis stated hesitantly.

The princess of Tenebrae paused in the middle of her diatribe, blinking inquiringly at him.

"Cloud's not from around here, is he."

"No, of course—"

"I mean as in he's from _another world_."

"Well…_yes_," Stella answered, somehow surprised-as if there were no qualms to be had about that fact.

Noctis stood to his full height and crossed his arms. Waited.

"Now, I know what you're thinking," Stella began.

"_Do you_?" he demanded, annoyed. "Because your attitude toward the matter is telling me otherwise. He's _from another world, _Stella!"

Rather than nod solemnly Stella swooned. "I _know_. I love that fact."

"Stella _please_ tell me you didn't…" Noctis abruptly pulled the brakes on finishing that statement. The proper princess of Tenebrae didn't seem like the kidnapping type, but maybe he didn't know her as well as he thought he did if there was an otherworldly man standing in the Lucis courtyard playing with grandfather's koi.

Stella seemed to get a good read on his reluctance and squeezed his arm, smiling. "It's nothing to worry about, r_eally_. I'm happy with him."

_That's not the point. _"Stella we're not supposed to interfere in other worlds. It's dangerous. You could…" he trailed off, shaking his head. Stella's expression was still dreamlike. He'd seen that look before on Prompto. It was obvious his words were going in one ear and out the other. He watched her get up from the desk and approach the window with a sigh, returning a smile and a wave to Cloud when he noticed her from below.

_Ick, _was all Noctis could think. He could barely stand it when Argentum did it with his latest squeeze and now Stella was joining the club? Just his luck.

"I know it's not, and you're right," Stella said. "But it can't be helped."

"Uh…_yeah_ it can—you can put him back where you found him."

"I _know_. But I…" she wrapped her arms around herself and her tone turned into a mere whisper. "…I couldn't do it, even if I tried."

_God just kill me now. _"Stella he's easy on the eyes and all but—"

"It's not about looks!"

Noctis winced at the pitch. "Of course it isn't."

"I really mean it. We're destined, he and I. Soul mates."

_Soul mates, she said_.

"Yeah. Okay," was all Noctis could say without laughing aloud. "And you guys are in…" he steeled himself because he really _hated_ saying the word aloud "_love_ with each other, right?"

"Not…yet."

_"__Yet?" _Noctis just knew he was going to regret asking.

"He has a deep friendship with his childhood friend, who also happens to be his first crush. They went on a date once, and he doesn't like to talk about how it went, but I know he still cares about her. I got to meet her, you know. You really can't blame him because she's beautiful, inside _and_ out. And really, really kind. But I wanted to give us a chance so…"

"So you kidnapped him," Noctis finished flatly.

"You don't understand—"

"Then _make_ me understand because I'm having a hard time reconciling this…" he gestured from the window to her "…_whatever_ this is."

Stella studied him quietly for a minute. "Okay," she said finally. She walked over to him and took a deep breath, holding up her right hand. "Do you see it?"

"Is this some Tenebraen variation of flipping the bird?" Noctis asked. "Because I've gotta say: I'm more amused than offended."

"Use your powers."

That had been his second option anyway. The room looked just as it had before, with the exception of a thin piece of—_t__hread, it looks like thread,_ Noctis thought, red in colour wrapped around Stella's right little finger, trailing to the ground toward the window and through the wall to the courtyard below.

Right for Cloud.

Noctis approached Stella and reached for it.

Stella tensed. "No don't—"

His hand passed right through. As if a freezing draft had blown into the room Stella shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself. The thread shimmered as the light hit it.

"Please don't do that," Stella said. Her voice was pained, as if he had reached over and pinched her. Confusion washed over him at first, but realization was right on its heels. Then he found himself backing away, wary.

_No, I don't believe it. _

He'd heard stories; had pictures shown to him as a child. But he didn't buy into _that_ crap, _still_ didn't, even as the proof waved its dirty underwear right in front of his face.

Stella was smiling now. "They're not stories, Caelum," she said. She pointed. "But if they are, then it seems you have a chapter of your own."

Noctis looked down at his hand and let out a shout of horror before he furiously began waving his arm around, trying to rid himself of it.

"What the f-" No matter how violently he shook his hand, and no matter how loosely tied around his pinky finger the string looked, the thing remained attached, like bubblegum beneath a boot.

"If you concentrate you can take hold of it," Stella suggested.

"Will it come off?" Noctis hated how desperate he sounded.

"No."

"Then why-"

"Just do it Caelum."

It took a few tries, but he got there. "Now what?" he asked, anxious. He could feel it slipping from his grasp.

Stella's eyes were filled with excitement. (In hindsight, Noctis would learn to take that as a warning sign). "Now pull," she instructed. He did just that.

There was a loud ripping sound, like fabric tearing apart and as he turned to the source his eyes widened. In the centre of the room a portal had opened, revealing a dark abyss where the string seemed to lead. The thread around his finger began to tighten. Noctis' heart dropped into is stomach. It didn't take an idiot to know what would come next.

"Good luck," Stella said, and Noctis never got the chance to ask _why_ because suddenly he was flying: over a hundred miles an hour or at the speed of light toward an unknown destination. He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, praying for the best.

Or at least, a soft landing.

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><p>-<strong>Part I end-<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

a/n: i would just like to say that i did not plan it out this ficlet but i _am_ committed to seeing it through so this'll be...interesting. thanks for the feedback guys! this was beta-d to my best ability

(nah i just read through it liek one time)

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><p><strong>Part II<strong>

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><p>Though smell is not the first sense that returns to Noctis (after touch and hearing) when he wakes up, it is the first thing he registers. And the first thing that Noctis smells is…salt. More accurately, <em>sea <em>salt. He feels it stick to his skin when a warm breeze brushes his hair out of his eyes. He hears waves crashing on a shore a little _too_ closely, almost as if he's just a few footsteps away. Has he landed on a beach? There are annoying seagulls squawking above and around him too, but before he can even wonder aloud if he's right or wrong, the fourth sense confirms it for him and he _tastes _salt right as someone splashes his face with seawater. Some of it gets in his nostrils and mouth and his body automatically jolts him into a sitting position where he coughs and sputters and _swears, _fouler than a sailor, before he furiously wipes his eyes with his back sleeve and even more furiously glares up at the pink-haired girl standing over him.

"What was that for?" he demands, and in a tone that would have Regis shaking his head.

"_You are a prince, Noct_," Noctis imagines him saying, flicking him in the forehead for emphasis. "_That kind of behaviour is rude and reflects badly upon me as a father and king of Lucis."_

Now, Noctis loves his father; respects, and fears the man too, but in this moment— he can't bring himself to care.

See, _normally_, yes, he'd be a tad more 'calm' and 'collected' about the matter, but that was simply because the rules of Lucii society demanded it of him. _Here_, however, in this unknown world where he's _practically_ a nobody, (a fact he can't seem to get his head around because people always recognize him before he even registers they are sprinting to him from long distances away), those rules no longer apply.

_He's_ the victim here. _He_ didn't ask for the stupid, magical thread wrapped around his finger to drag him unwillingly into this ugly…_actually, the beach isn't that bad_—_it's really nice, white, soft sand and clear blue water_—this…_dream world,_ of sorts which is slowly becoming more real by the Etrodamned second. As the kidnappee it's practically his god-given _right_ to be rude. You just don't go around dragging people to other worlds out of your own amusement. **_That's_**_ what you call being rude_, Noctis thinks.

"Sorry, I thought you were dead," explains the girl, smiling at him. Noctis' resolve to stay angry takes a few hesitant steps back. She has the kind of smile that'd make anyone take a good, hard look at themselves and feel like a real asshole. The effect is amplified as well, because she's as cute as the bright red buttons on her sundress. "Did you fall asleep on the beach?"

_No_. "Something like that," Noctis nods, and the girl nods sagely with him. Then, she launches into an account about her own experience about falling asleep on this very beach under the shade of the lone paopu which she points to show, but Noctis finds it really hard to concentrate because his right little finger is just _itching_. As he frowns at the paopu he fights the urge to scratch, let alone acknowledge it. If he ignores it, it'll go away, right? Video games and comic books have taught him that prophecies and 'destiny' mumbo-jumbo is self-fulfilling, so he's no idiot. Whatever game 'fate' or 'destiny' (or the Goddess) is playing, he's having no part of it.

"Are you here on holiday?" the girl asks, suddenly. There's a look in her eye Noctis is sure he's seen on Stella but he can't pinpoint the exact context _when. _He does remember that nothing beneficial (for him) has ever come of it.

"Something like that," Noctis answers, wary. "Why?"

She giggles then, and he wonders if she thinks he's being coy. (He's not.) Then he wonders if Prompto's right about the thing about girls being attracted to guys who 'play' aloof. Wonders (to his sudden horror) if he's sent the wrong message, and if _she's_ the one on the other end of his string. He doesn't make it obvious as he studies her right pinky, but the real challenge comes in keeping his composure when he makes out the thread wrapped around her finger. It's not _tied_, like his is (thank Etro), but _tangled_, like she's accidentally stumbled upon it, because it continues to the sand, up the dunes and toward the town.

_I'll just have to avoid going that way,_ Noctis rationalises (or at least, _thinks_ he's rationalizing) to himself. He stands and begins dusting himself off.

"Oh nothing," she says, completely oblivious "it's just my friend just bought a new house and we're having a little housewarming slash barbeque to celebrate." At 'barbeque' Noctis' stomach suddenly growls and her eyes light up, excited. "It's not very far, and I can drop you off at your place afterward."

"That's a little dangerous," Noctis coughs, trying to disguise his grumbling insides "don't you think, inviting a total stranger over?"

She smiles, as if she's been waiting for that question. (Or has answered it often, whichever comes first) "Tell me your name, then."

"That won't make any difference."

"I'd still like to know it," she insists, now pouting.

"Why?"

The smile on her face stretches wider. "So I can properly introduce you guys, of course."

Noctis, whose mouth had been opened halfway to tell the girl 'thank you but no', is now clamped shut. He watches as she takes a hold of the string and twirls it like a ribbon in the air around her. Listens, as she laughs happily while she dances on the sand in front of him. It scares the shit out of him.

"Hey listen, could you not—"

"Destiny's so romantic, don't you think, Noctis Lucis Caelum?" Her hand tightens around it, and Noctis swallows nervously.

"How do you know my name?"

"That's because _I'm_ the—" but her eyes widen as if suddenly remembering, and she cuts off and then giggles, a hand rising to cover her mouth. "Oops!"

It is _definitely_ past the time to get going. Noctis fakes a yawn and casually takes a step back. "Actually, you know, I'm _really_ tired and—"

"_Actually_," the girl cuts in, a cruel smirk on her face as she takes hold of the string with both hands, "I wasn't _asking_." Then she yanks it toward her.

"Wait! I don't—" is the last thing Noctis manages to say that is civil, because the rest that trails after him while he hurtles like a ragdoll toward the unknown (again), is a string of colorful expletives.

"I'm Lumina," the girl calls, sounding irritatingly close and far away at the same time.

Everything goes black.

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><p>an ii): how many of you guys thought it was Serah initially? be honest - no wait, actually feel free to lie and make me feel better because a lot of you are quick on the uptake hahah.


	3. Chapter 3

a/n: Thanks for your feedback everyone! Glad you enjoyed Lumina-I needed a morally questionable cupid to bring these two together...just think of the Luteces in Bioshock Infinite giving Booker shit and that's exactly what her role is in this fic :)

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><p>The backyard Noctis comes to; in a state that can only be described as semi-consciousness and delirium, is empty save for 'Lumina' sitting on the fence eating a popsicle. Never one to ignore details '<em>completely'<em>, he notices that she's done away with the colorful sundress in favour of a black lolita-esque number.

She smiles, but the vibe he detects is anything but friendly. As someone who in all his twenty-two years of playing the role he has been assigned from birth on a stage more complex than the masks he wears on a day to day basis, Noctis knows a thing or a hundred about fake smiles, and this girl is as convincing as the diamond ring (read: actually cubic zirconia) Prompto proposed to his girlfriend with. The change in wardrobe was the first giveaway; definitely not the result of a preteen brat acting on childish whim. It's an assertion—and a not so subtle one at that—of her role on this new stage he has found himself on, and while he'd never in a million years admit to being the hero (it's too much pressure and he's done a lot of questionable things that heroes wouldn't do) he's very certain that she's the villain.

Something cold hits his head and lands in his lap.

"You're gonna need the energy," she says but Noctis still eyes the frozen desert like it's been laced with cyanide. As if reading his mind she holds a hand theatrically to her heart. "Nocty why would I poison you when there's so much _fun_ to be had?"

"I think you need to reevaluate your definition of that word, kid" Noctis mutters, before the label catches his eye. "Sea-salt," he reads.

"Try it," she urges.

Now he's definitely convinced that she's trying to poison him. "Don't really like sweets." It's the most diplomatic answer he can offer.

"Everyone likes sweets."

"Not me."

"Oh no, that won't do," she wags a finger at him as she says it, and it makes him morbidly curious.

"Why?"

She tosses her popsicle stick over her shoulder and into the neighbor's yard behind. The dog on the other side takes it as a violation of an unspoken peace treaty and starts barking its head off. Lumina barely hears it; like someone who has had too much practice in the exercise.

"Because _she _loves sweets," she answers. "If _you_ don't like sweets and _she_ does, then what _do_ you have in common? What's the point of all this? "

Noctis figures the 'she' she's talking about has to be his—and his stomach lurches uncomfortably at the term because it sounds so ludicrous—soulmate. And while he's not at all ready for a commitment of such existential magnitude; what with his inconquerable list of duties and desire to remain unattached for as long as humanly possible; a tiny part of him utters a silent prayer of thanks to the universe for at least getting _that_ aspect of his sexuality right (inconvenient timing and locale aside).

It's not enough to make him take a bite out of the ice cream; however. He tosses it back to her but overshoots and they both listen as the dog gets even more riled up; yapping louder than before. The fence even starts to shake. Noctis is tempted to push her off, but he decides bailing on her while she's distracted with teasing the dog is a much better idea.

Only, it takes him a few seconds and a few tries to realize that he can't warp at all. Not even to shift ten measly centimeters to the right. It's completely baffling. He can feel the power in him stir, but just before his mind can direct the energy it short circuits and then stalls, like a car with a broken starter.

"Try standing on your head."

"What the hell did you do to me?"

"Nothing that you didn't want done to yourself."

"_What_?"

"If you want to go home you have to play along," Lumina says. She tosses another packet of sea-salt ice cream at him.

"What if I don't want to play?"

"Then you're stranded here until you change your mind. Though I wouldn't take too long; there are consequences."

"Like what?"

In the evening light Lumina's expression turns unexpectedly sombre. "Fading into nothingness for starters." She points to his hand. "Look."

Noctis knows he should feel relieved to find no string around his little finger, but he doesn't; not completely. "What does it mean?"

"That you need to stop observing and start participating."

"And how do I do that?"

She giggles. "You can't really just be a pretty face, can you? I mean if you're going to be paired with the likes of _her—_"

"I honestly have no idea what you're talking about."

Lumina stands and pirouettes on the fence perfectly without losing balance. "Play the _game_ Nocty," she says while she walks to one end. On her way back she performs an aerial cartwheel. "Find your soul mate, then kiss her like the world's ending. Ever heard of Sleeping Beauty? Well she's your prince charming. Kiss her and you'll wake up."

"And what happens when I do?"

Lumina stops, just as she's about to pirouette again and snickers instead. "My, aren't _we_ confident."

"Why not? I'll just follow the string and then..." and then Noctis realizes.

Lumina's smile is bright enough to light up the entire Lucis capital. The kind of smile a ban should be enacted against—no one should look that happy. It's eerie, somewhat evil.

"And then?" the preteen prompts, gesturing slowly for him to continue.

The world seems to tilt on its axis and Noctis staggers backwards a bit, staring at his right hand. Beads of perspiration begin lining his forehead as he tries to will the thread back into opacity. He falls onto his knees, stumped and at a loss.

_How am I supposed to…if I can't…_

Lumina dismounts from the fence and lands with a flourish before patting him on the head. "There, there."

"I don't want a girlfriend," Noctis tells her.

"You have such soft hair," Lumina muses.

"I'm not ready for one; much less a soul mate."

She ruffles his hair like he's a puppy and not a grown man. It's not totally unpleasant but it does feel weird. "Mmm yeah I kinda figured," she says. "But then, no one truly 'is ready', are they. And it's not all bad. There's still hope."

"I don't even _know_ what I'm looking for in a woman—I can barely even talk to—I mean, looks are important, obviously but long term..." he groans and facepalms. "Shit…Long term?" Is he supposed to bring her home to meet dad and the guys too? What kind of pressure is that?

"Whoa, hey," Lumina laughs. "No one's saying you have to _marry_ her. Just _find_ _her_ Nocty. That's the only point of all this. And then the game ends."

"But how will I know?"

Lumina's hands are cold as she squeezes his cheeks while she raises his head, but her eyes are warm and filled with a wisdom beyond her years. "When you know," she says, "_you_ _know_."

"I..._what?"_

_"_Welp, gotta go!"

"Wait! Lumina—"

But in a theatrical poof of crystal dust she's gone, just like that.

"Motherfucker!" Noctis hollers. He turns to the fence and starts kicking the shit out of it.

_Fucking. _

_Stupid. _

_Just had to pull on it. _

_Just had to fucking. Ask. _

_Motherfucking—_

Someone clears their throat behind him and all thoughts in the Lucii prince scatter. He turns, like a deer frozen in headlights.

There's a group of people standing there, just…_staring_ at him. A blonde man, easily the tallest in the group with a build to rival Gladiolus, is the first to speak:

"Are you alright?" He enunciates every word slowly but as irritating as it is, even Noctis has to admit he must look like a real psycho, standing in a stranger's backyard and assaulting their fence. But rather than answer, because there's no way anyone in their right mind would believe his story about 'magical red threads' and 'destiny' Noctis decides to do the first sane thing he should have done upon arrival. He tosses the sea salt ice cream at them and while they scramble out of the way as if he's hurled a grenade, he makes a dash for the door, wrenches it open and _bulldozes_ through the house. On his way down the front steps with the now agitated group on his heels he collides into someone just on their way up and knocks her flat on her ass.

"Fuck, I'm sorry" he mutters, quickly pulling her up.

"What the hell is wrong with you," she grumbles, but just as Noctis meets her eyes to get a good look at who's going to be on the receiving end of his sarcasm, his mind goes blank. He isn't sure if he's imagining it, but time also seems to stop.

A high-pitched voice yelling "Thief! Get him!" as the front door bursts open is all it takes to break the spell.

Noctis barrel rolls away from the big blonde man's grasp just in time and high tails it out of there, like a bat out of hell. Lumina's cryptic message immediately replays in his head.

_'When you know; _you know_.'_

As much as he's tempted to he doesn't look back.

It can't be that easy.


	4. Chapter 4

a/n: This note is going to be posted on all of my fics because there's an anon out there who continually leaves reviews thanking my friend Cam277 for writing _my fics._ I thought it was a joke at first but this person _genuinely thinks_ this is Cam's account. This is the only way I can get this message across, so sorry everyone who has to suffer through this, but this a nail that needs to be hammered down. I think all this confusion stemmed from me stating that I've adopted Suisse Garden and Eidolons/L'Cie - two lightis fics that had been scrapped by her a few years back-_which will be exclusively posted on ao3_.

Hi Anon,  
>You seem to know Cam's real name and like casually mentioning it in reviews so I can only assume you know her in real life-which is cool. I like Cam277: she's a cool gal. But the way you carry on, throwing her name at me as if you knowing is somehow supposed to make you superior to all my other readers pisses me off. This is <em>my <em>work. If you miss Cam so much, as I can _painfully_ tell you do-message her. Her account's in my favorites. Just leave me and my fics out of it. Don't get me wrong though, I like that you enjoy my work. But you know what I'd like more? Being credited for _fucking writing _it.

I'm sure you have a lovely personality-I don't give a fuck. This shit is annoying.

-mic drop-

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><p>When one grows up in a gilded cage, where there are rules that dictate every decision one makes, one cannot be blamed for developing a certain fascination (or is the proper term flirtation) with bending the bars of this cage, or breaking them altogether. And though Noctis is no exception whether he is sneaking out of class to watch mixed martial arts street fights with Prompto or sneaking back onto the palace grounds before the crack of dawn; <em>despite<em> his inherent desire for a life less constricting, even _he_ wouldn't go so far as to do something _illegal_.

He's rebellious, not stupid.

Which is…probably a song the irritable police officer across from him has heard often and Noctis suspects, with the growing sinking feeling in his gut, that _this_ time is one too many.

It's in the look she gives Noctis: the look a lion has before it takes down a gazelle that makes him stop fiddling with the handcuffs on his wrists to sit completely still. He internally breathes a silent sigh of relief when she goes back to perusing the multiple affidavits attached to her clipboard. He'd made the mistake of underestimating the local community here. In addition to the five strangers chasing after him, there was also an elderly woman on her scooter (which made him run that much faster), a homeless man (which made him wonder if there were new lows he could sink beneath) and all the patrons sitting at the outside tables of Valhalla Café (the patrons didn't scare him; his brain somehow decided the name of the café would be an important detail; running for his life aside).

"I'm going to give you one last chance to cooperate," she says. If not for the slight edge to her tone, one would almost think by her blank expression that she is incredibly apathetic and bored about the matter. (She's not; he's not an idiot.) And as the clock on the wall behind her stretches toward midnight, Noctis can't blame her. She'd actually just been on her way out when he and his arresting officer had burst into the precinct.

"I _am_ co-operating," Noctis says for the fifteenth time that night. "My name is Noctis Lucis Caelum and I didn't steal anything. I would _never _steal anything. I'm heir to the Lucis throne, son of Regis the—"

_"One last chance_," the woman cuts in with a warning glance. She pulls off her glasses as she says it, reaches into her desk for lens cleaner and begins cleaning them. Noctis notices the initials 'J.N.' on each of the arms and idly wonders what this woman who has his balls in a vice would be named. She'd definitely get along with Ignis—they have that annoying superpower in common.

"State your full name and occupation. _Truthfully_, "she adds, just as Noctis opens his mouth.

Pride has Noctis clamping his mouth shut and scowling. While it '_would__'_ be easier to make up a fake alias and backstory, the fact of the matter is that he is a Caelum. And Caelum men stay true to themselves no matter how dire the consequences; no matter how much the world changes or how great the odds are.

Which means…jack _shit_ to a _non_-Caelum, which also means he will resultantly score _zero_ in the sympathy department when she throws him into a cell for obstruction of justice. Noctis don't even need to look at her—he can just _feel_ in the air between them that this conversation is heading south.

Actually, no, that was a lie.

This conversation has been going south the moment he opened his big fat mouth. He's pretty sure he's hit rock bottom when he realizes _why _in movies and real life people are instructed not to say anything until their lawyer arrives.

Just as he thinks that however; there's a gruff knock on the door, and when his arresting officer pokes his head in and glares at him, he rescinds those thoughts faster than a fisherman reeling in the catch of his life. His situation is about to get a whole lot worse, isn't it.

"What are _you_ still doing here?" says (or rather _accuses) _'J.N.', with unmistakeable dark intent. "Or does your capacity to frustrate people know no limits?"

One could throw in a quip about unresolved sexual tension between the two here, but definitely only in an alternate reality. In this one the man ignores her and keeps his gaze on Noctis, who in turn focuses on the thin scar above the man's left eye( it's much easier than enduring the look of pure loathing on his face).

"It's your lucky day, scum."

"Excuse me?" demands Noctis' other oppressor. "I don't think so."

"Captain's orders," a new voice says.

"You can't be serious," J.N. groans.

'Scar' pushes the door open wider and a dark-haired man in a leather jacket with a sheepish expression steps in, accompanied by another in a black pinstriped suit with an attaché case.

"Who the hell are you?" J.N. almost snarls.

The suit turns to Noctis instead of answering her and smiles. "Sorry we took so long," he hands an official-looking document to J.N. as he says it. "Efficiency isn't what it used to be at the Mayor's office. Now if you'd kindly follow me—"

"Wait _just a minute_," says J.N, peering suspiciously from the paper in her hand to Noctis' yet-to-be-named saviour. "I know _everyone_ from the Mayor's office and I've definitely never seen you before."

"_Clearly_," agrees the suit with a chuckle. Both Scar and J.N. bristle at the comment, but before any verbal assaults can be made, 'Leather-Jacket' steps in. He speaks with a drawl that reminds Noctis of the space westerns he used to watch as a kid. And strangely, Prompto if the perpetual anarchist was ever capable of turning a new leaf.

"Rosch, Nabaat, stand down," he says.

"But _Captain_—"

"The Mayor's got my hands tied behind my back on this one. Stand down."

Just as Noctis is halfway out the door, Scar/Rosch grabs him by the elbow.

"Smile while you can. This isn't over _thief_," he hisses before letting go.

By the manic zeal in his eyes Noctis knows he isn't lying. He keeps his silence until he and the suit are safely out of the precinct and piled into the back of a waiting black BMW before he finally speaks.

"Who are you?" Noctis asks, wondering if his dad has friends in this world.

"Just someone who lost a bet," replies the man, focusing on the driver in the rear-view mirror. "Are we done here?"

"For now," Lumina winks from the driver's seat, smiling as she tips her cap to the two of them and then revving the engine.

"_You_!" Noctis says, both horrified and disbelieving.

"Oh I've always wanted to drive one of these things…age limit my ass. "

The man beside him lets out a 'hmph' before vanishing into nothing, but Noctis only vaguely registers it, because he's forgotten to buckle up, and is now more preoccupied with being pressed against the back seat trying to hold on for dear life while this crazy bitch zooms through the tiny township, making sudden lefts and rights.

_Just _had_ to pull on it, _he thinks with a groan as his face smooshes against the toughened glass partition.

Etro only knows where they're going, but one thing's for certain: if he isn't the sorriest asshole in town already...

...he's definitely going to be the sorest.

* * *

><p>an: Lost steam for Fulcrum and _this_ happened. Anyway, you can _never_ have too many antagonists (refer title of this fic *cackles*)  
>'Suit' is Raines, if you missed that one, and Rygdea's the Captain.<br>Thanks for the feedback-you guys are incredibly sweet :)


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